


Triggers

by amorluzymelodia



Series: Destiel Drabbles [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Panic Attack, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 20:48:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorluzymelodia/pseuds/amorluzymelodia
Summary: He’d thought he was past it, that it didn’t bother him anymore. After all, he’d been out of John’s reach for years now, safe from his tirades and fists. He was finally in a good place. Well…as good of a place as he’d ever been. Neither he or Sam was dead, or on the brink of death—a first in many years—they had a stable roof over their heads, and he and Cas had both finally “pulled their heads out of their asses” as Sam put it, and were in a committed relationship. Hell, even the literal spawn of Satan was turning out to be more of an annoying kid than the antichrist he’d expected.So, it caught him completely off guard when all Cas did was sigh, and it almost sent him into a full-blown panic attack.





	Triggers

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Okay so this is my first Destiel fic so be warned. Also, I am of the persuasion that John was (at least partially) abusive to the boys so if you don't agree with that this may not be the fic for you.
> 
> Just something I had floating around, let me know what you think! 
> 
> Abby

He’d thought he was past it, that it didn’t bother him anymore. After all, he’d been out of John’s reach for years now, safe from his tirades and fists. He was finally in a good place. Well…as good of a place as he’d ever been. Neither he or Sam was dead, or on the brink of death—a first in many years—they had a stable roof over their heads, and he and Cas had both finally “pulled their heads out of their asses” as Sam put it, and were in a committed relationship. Hell, even the literal spawn of Satan was turning out to be more of an annoying kid than the antichrist he’d expected.

So, it caught him completely off guard when all Cas did was _sigh_ , and it almost sent him into a full-blown panic attack.

They were sitting in the War Room, Dean putzing away on his laptop, looking for cases, while Sam read through one of the Men of Letter’s thousands of books. Jack was on the I-pad, helping Dean look for cases, and occasionally moving a pencil or book across the room just for fun. Cas was sitting next to Dean, sketching what looked like a mountain range. He’d recently taken up drawing, and he was actually pretty good. He said it calmed him, that it was a way he could remember all the glorious things he’d seen in the millennia he’d been alive, and could get those images out of his head. Dean would be lying if he said the sketches Cas did of him weren’t incredibly flattering, though he ignored Sam’s smug looks when Cas showed them off. As of right now, Dean had his legs propped up on Cas’ thighs and Cas had his free hand on Dean’s shin, rubbing lightly in a circular motion. They were all wrapped up in what they were doing, and the quiet that filled the room wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was the closest thing Dean had felt to contentment in a long time.

And then Cas sighed, and it all came crashing down.

Logically, Dean knew he hadn’t done anything, that Cas was sighing for an unknown, probably unimportant reason, but his mind jumped into overdrive at the sound because…because that was _exactly_ the way John used to sigh. Except when John would sigh, it was because Dean had done something wrong. Fucked up on a hunt, missed a crucial piece of information, slept too late, hell _breathed_ too loudly. It didn’t usually take much to piss John off, and more often than not Dean was on the receiving end of his anger, regardless of the cause. Dean had learned John’s tells at a very early age—he had to in order to stay safe. It was easier to block a blow if he knew it was coming. Something as simple as a sigh could indicate a night of angry punches being thrown. The slamming of the car door could mean Dean having to step in and protect Sammy yet again. He hadn’t felt this way in a very long time, but the sound of Cas’ sigh made his throat clench and his hands start shaking, his body immediately coiled for defense, while still pumping fear throughout his veins. Dean closed his eyes tightly and tried to breathe through the panic. Unfortunately, his inner turmoil did not go unnoticed.

“Dean?” Jack questioned. “Is everything alright?”

Damn that kid for being so observant. Not to mention so fucking blunt. Everyone’s eyes immediately snapped to Dean and he pushed back from the table roughly, nearly falling with the movement of pulling his legs off of Cas’ thighs.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” He growled and half ran towards the bathroom, locking the door behind him and leaning heavily on the sink, taking in frantic, gasping breaths. When he picked up his head to look in the mirror, he saw the boy he’d been, scared of his own father, with too much weight on his young shoulders. Dean splashed water on his face, but that did little to clear his head.

He _knew_ Cas would never hurt him. Yeah, they’d been through some rough times—hell he’d _stabbed_ Cas the first time they met—but they’d come so far. No one except Sam knew him better than Cas, and Dean even doubted that Sam could see through him like Cas did. Cas had believed in Dean from the get-go, had trusted him when no one else did, had faith in him when Dean himself couldn’t. Cas was the best damn thing to happen in his life, and he thanked whatever deity was looking down that Cas had stuck around. Cas had put up with all Dean’s bullshit, and Dean had gotten pretty good at hiding most of it. Yet here he was, hiding in a bathroom, panicking like he was fifteen and John had thrown a bottle of whiskey against the wall again.

“Dean?” there was a knock on the door, followed by Cas’ voice. “Dean, may I come in?” he asked hesitantly and Dean would never get over how Cas asked permission for everything. He knew what Dean had been through, and he stressed consent above all else, and it made Dean weak.

When Dean didn’t answer right away there was another tentative knock against the wood.

“Are you ill?” Cas asked, clearly worried about his boyfriend. “Should I—?”

“I’m okay, Cas.” Dean answered, his voice far higher than usual. “I just…I just need a second.”

“You don’t have to be alone, Dean.” Cas called quietly, and Dean closed his eyes, touched. Cas kept proving how absolutely perfect he was. He knew Dean had gone through so much alone, that he offered up his company and help at every available opportunity. “I’m here.”

That quiet promise is what got Dean to open the door, though he immediately turned back to the sink after he’d unlocked it, hanging his head in shame, his eyes closed. Dean didn’t want to look Cas in the eyes, knowing how weak he was. Cas was in the bathroom in a split second, pushing the door almost all the way closed. Closed enough that they had privacy, but open a bit to let Dean know he wasn’t locked in. God this man knew him so well. Cas reached out a hand over Dean’s shoulder but didn’t quite touch, waiting for permission, just letting his fingers brush against Dean’s shirt. Just letting Dean know he was there. Dean let out a shaky breath and reached behind him, grasping Cas’ hand firmly. Neither of them said anything for a few long minutes, but when Dean’s breathing finally evened out a bit, he turned and almost threw himself at Cas, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Cas seemed shocked a bit at first, but then wrapped Dean in a tight embrace, and Dean felt the phantom whisper of wings wrap around him as well.

“What happened?” Cas asked quietly, placing one hand on Dean’s head and running his fingers lightly through the soft hair at the back of his neck.

“My—my dad…” Dean whispered against Cas’ shoulder, having to take a few more breaths before he could continue. “He would get _so_ angry. It wouldn’t even take anything to set him off and he would just—“ another shaky breath, but Dean didn’t have to finish.

“Shh, I know.” Cas consoled Dean, knowing exactly the horrors John Winchester had put his sons through.

Dean shook his head, needing Cas to understand fully.

“I could tell it was coming, because he would crack his neck, or flex his fingers, or…sigh just a certain way.” Dean trailed off, almost scared to continue. Not frightened of Cas, not anymore, but frightened of what admitting this would mean for their relationship.

It only took a moment for Cas to connect the dots.

“Like how I sighed…” Cas acknowledged quietly and Dean just buried his face in his shirt, trying to hide. “Dean I—“

“I know, I know I’m sorry!” Dean fell back on his old habits, apologizing instantly and hoping for the best.

Castiel just pulled back slightly and put his hands on either side of Dean’s face, making Dean look at him.

“Dean Winchester, you have _nothing_ to apologize for.” Cas said quietly, but firmly. “You went through abuse, trauma at the hands of your father. Your brain learned to interpret certain signals to mean that danger was coming, in order for you to protect yourself. That is no fault of yours, and neither is the reflex upon experiencing those triggers after the fact. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Dean just shook his head. “He’s dead, Cas. I shouldn’t let him have this power over me.”

“He doesn’t have power over you, not anymore.” Cas countered, running his thumb down Dean’s jaw in a comforting manner. “You’ve grown so much and healed from what he put you through. But that doesn’t mean your brain won’t react to those signals like it used to. It’s a reflex, and something that isn’t easily unwired. It doesn’t mean you aren’t trying, that you aren’t strong.”

“All you did was sigh, Cas. That’s all it took. I hunt fucking _monsters_ and a _sigh_ sent me over the edge? You can’t tell me that’s strong.” Dean argued, but being able to talk to Cas like this was helping immensely.

“You may hunt monsters, Dean but you are still human. You can’t control what triggers you, that’s why it’s called a trigger. And for all the demons—both literal and metaphorical—that you’ve faced, you’re still here. You’re still fighting. And you’ve beat them all. Don’t be so hard on yourself simply because of a very human reaction.”

Dean let out a low, long breath and Castiel brought their lips together gently.

“I love you, Dean Winchester. You are the bravest man I have ever met. You will always be safe with me, I can promise you that.”

“I love you too, Cas.” Dean said quietly. It had taken a lot for him to say ‘I love you’ the first time, but now he said it every chance he got, knowing how easily people could be ripped from his life.

“Please, Dean, talk to me if you ever feel like this again. I only want to help.” Cas looked in Dean’s eyes seriously. “Promise?” he asked, sticking up a pinky. It was one of the idiotic human mannerisms that he’d picked up, and though Dean rolled his eyes, he hooked his pinky around Cas’.

“Promise,” Dean said and Cas kissed him again, and in that kiss, Dean felt all the promises he and Cas had made to each other. That they would fight for one another, trust one another, and above all, keep each other safe.

And Dean believed it all. Because if Cas believed in him, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t overcome.


End file.
